


The Cutting Room Floor

by poisonbite01



Series: The Living Complex [2]
Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Depression, F/M, Gen, Mental Illness, Neurosis, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonbite01/pseuds/poisonbite01
Summary: This is where I'll be posting various short story bits of my series "The Living Complex" that don't make it into the story. I sometimes write stuff that I like and want to share but doesn't really fit in the story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place somewhere during "Onset" and was written for draft one. I don't really have a place for it in draft two but I like it a lot and wanted to put it up.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Artemis Fowl has been confrontational, reclusive, and aggressive, and Holly finally calls him on it.

“The Scytheclaws are spawning.” 

“I heard.” 

Holly caught the medicine ball that Artemis had lugged at her, a toss that had turned his short response into a barely discernible grunt of exertion. Holly rolled back with the weight, lowering her torso until her back almost touched the padded ground beneath her, then came back up to hand the ball back to Artemis. Artemis did his best to lower himself a similar amount, but could only get about halfway down before his abdominal muscles screamed at him to stop the torture, and he pulled himself back into an upright position and tossed the ball to Holly. 

The two elfs were sitting in the center of the living room, all the furniture pushed out of the way to make room for a ten foot square of interlocking pads. While ten feet might not have been much to mud-men, it was more than enough for a pair of full-grown elfs and their exercise equipment. Their ankles were locked together while they did crunches with the heavy ball, taking turns with it. Holly was getting in an extra, unencumbered crunch before Artemis finished his, so she was always waiting for him when he finally managed to sit up and toss the ball to her. 

Several repetitions passed in silence (save Artemis' grunts of pain and exertion), before Holly spoke again. 

“We should get them a gift.” 

“A card will do, I'm sure.” 

“A card is boring. You've been their neighbor for almost twelve years, Artemis, we have to get them something more personal than a card.” 

Artemis felt a sudden surge of anger, and he managed a full crunch with the weighted ball. He came up a bit faster than Holly did, and she only barely caught the ball when he flung it at her. The impact stung her palms and she tightened her core, stopping her motion entirely, and stared at her lover. The man had a flush in his cheeks that didn't look like his usual exercise coloring, and there was a hard glint in his eyes that was unlike Artemis. 

No, it was unlike the elf Artemis that had lived in Haven for over a decade. It was an expression she remembered from his youth, and she didn't like it. 

“What is your problem, Artemis?” The words were harsher than she'd desired, but the tone was far quieter and concerned than the word choice indicated. 

Artemis was quiet for a few moments, eyes inquisitive and curious, as if he couldn't understand why Holly cared so much about him. This worried and confused Holly, but it also annoyed her. Her catty side rose up and she started to move. She dropped the medicine ball on the padded floor and leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and then planted her chin in the palm of one hand. Her free hand gestured to Artemis, and even if Artemis wasn't a master at reading body-language he would have known what she meant: well?

After a few moments he rolled his eyes and disengaged from her, tucked his feet under him, and stood up. Standing over his mate, he said “A gift card will do, Holly. I'm going to polish off some of my course work.” He turned to go, heading for the doorway, and Holly felt real anger rise up inside her now.

“Hey!” She got to her feet and moved after him, grabbing his forearm and tugging him around. For a moment, she saw his face, and there was a look of pain on it that almost startled her out of her building rage. Almost. 

“We're not done here Artemis. I need you to tell me what's going on with you, or I can't help you.” 

Artemis' look of pain had immediately shifted into a look of haughty amusement, a smirk creasing his features and an eyebrow lifting. 

“Help me? Help me with what, pray tell. My revolutionary breakthroughs? My course-work? My job? People?”

“Yes! I may not be able to help you do any of the work, but I can keep you in the right head-space to get it done. Moral support, emotional support, physical support, all of it! But I can't do that if you don't let me.” 

Artemis paused at that, and his anger fled in an instant. She was right. There was no reason for his attitude, no reason for him to push people away like this, no reason for him to push her away especially. His angry flush died down to an embarrassed tint of pink, and his eyes drifted away from hers. 

Holly saw the shift and adjusted her grip, sliding her tight clutching of his forearm to a delicate touch against the back of his hand before she twined her fingers through his. Her voice was quiet and soft, and she stepped in closer until she could press her face into the side of his neck.

“Let me help you, Artemis. However I can.” 

Artemis gulped slightly and tensed against her, but the tension fled as quickly as it arrived. His other arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer and he let out a long, deep sigh. He nodded slightly against the side of her head. 

“Alright Holly. Lately I've been... thinking a lot.”

That was a red flag right there. Those words, spoken after irrational bouts of anger and withdrawal, pointed to one thing: a break-up. It was Holly's turn to tense, at least until she remembered that this was Artemis. All he DID was think, so those words shouldn't scare her. 

“I've been having trouble focusing on the good things in my life, and have thus been neglecting them. I'm unable to do anything but think about the tragedies I've been involved in, tragedies I might have been able to stop if...” He paused there, then chuckled quietly. 

“That's it. I get to the if part and then my mind swirls in a loop, picking some part of me that could have been better, should have been better, and then charting the ways that even that change could have gone wrong. Then I pick something else to focus on, and all I do, unless adequately distracted, is run this infinite loop. It is exhausting.” 

Holly finally responded by letting her free hand slide up his chest, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, and then looked up into his face. What she saw was that look of pain that she'd seen moments ago, but Artemis made no moves to hide it this time. His eyes were bright and glistening, as if they were on the verge of tears but didn't know how to cry anymore. She kissed him on the tip of his chin, and spoke. 

“It sounds exhausting. If you need a break from people to sort this out, then that's what you need. But I don't think that's what you need. I think you need to know that your friends are here for you. No one wishes you'd been any different, Artemis.” She paused for a bit, then let out a slight laugh. 

“Except maybe Mulch. He wishes you'd thrown him more gold for all the things he's done for you over the years.” 

Artemis chuckled at that, tightened his grip on Holly, and then felt as if part of him was relaxing for the first time in weeks. Some unseen tension had slipped away, and he felt as if he could fly without wings because of it. Not that he'd want to fly, everything he wanted was right here. He leaned down and kissed Holly gently on the lips, thanked her, and pulled away to go clean up in the toilet pond. This time, Holly let him go and finished her workout.

~~~

The next day, Artemis called up the Scytheclaws. He could have walked over and said hello properly, but he'd read about spawning demon mothers. The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and a delicate, soft whisper came through the speaker. 

“Hello?” 

“Mr Scytheclaw? Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Shara is nesting. Demons scales make good nests. I'm hiding in the crawlspace. How can I help you?” 

Artemis, despite his reading, was completely off-guard by the fact that this demon buck, a five foot behemoth of scaly hide, rending talons, and horns that would impress a moose, was hiding from his dainty (by demon standards) wife. She was half his weight and had quite completely adapted to “civilized” life. 

“Savior Fowl?” Mr. Scytheclaw's quiet prompting snapped Artemis out of his strange tangential thought, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself. 

“Ah, yes, I was calling to offer my congratulations, and to ask if there was anything I could do to help you and your mate with the spawning. Is there anything you need?” 

There was a moment of silence, and then Mr. Scytheclaw said “Can I get one of those super tough suits that the LEP use?” He and Artemis chuckled at the request, but the demon ended it prematurely with a “I'm serious, Artemis. Shara's talons have never been so sharp, and she's started destroying the furniture.”

Artemis' laugh died out slowly, and his mind flashed back to some of the material he had read through over the last few days. 

“Wait, she's sharpening her claws and destroying things that belong to you? Aren't those usually courtship rituals?” 

“Well yes but I-” Mr. Scytheclaw paused, and Artemis said “You realized she's been grooming her horns regularly, haven't you.” 

“Yup.” 

“And she's found you.” 

“Yup.” 

“But you aren't afraid anymore are you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Have fun, Dan.” 

“Thank you, Artemis.” 

Artemis hung up, amused by both the remarkable nature of the conversation he'd just had, and the entertaining notion that he, Artemis Fowl, had basically told his neighbor “Look, your wife needs a good lay.” 

The elf let out a laugh, turned back to his computer screen, and opened up a new program file: Hatchling Enrichment. Could he finish before the clutch hatched?


End file.
